


The Skin That Wrapped My Frame (Wasn't Made For This)

by VeteranKlaus



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Five, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Sober Klaus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-03-08 12:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: "He can't hear you," said Ben, eying Klaus on the floor with his eyes rolling back into his head. "He's high.""Well, get him sober!" Five pinched the bridge of his nose. Only with his luck would he die trying to get back to his timeline to stop the apocalypse and the only person that could help was high as a kite on the floor.Or,In which in the process of returning to the past, Five dies. With only a few months until the apocalypse happens, he's stuck with trying to get Klaus sober enough to see him and sober enough to stop the apocalypse.





	1. I Don't Fall Slow Like I Used To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Hi! I really love your writing, so I wanted to suggest a story idea I had to you. You don’t have to write it, by any means, I just thought I'd try my luck.  
> What if Five died somehow before he could travel back to the present? I’m assuming, since we see Ben use his powers, that he would still be able to time travel as a ghost. He would travel to about, say, 6 months before the apocalypse and try to communicate the danger to Klaus, who would still be under the influence and thus unable to see him. Ben, however, would listen to Five, and then somehow convince Klaus to get sober enough to see him. Klaus would listen to Five’s explanation, and then eventually believe him (you can decide wether he believes Five immediately, or if he’s skeptical). He’d then try to get all of the living Hargreeves together and warn them all, so they could try to prevent the end of the world, since he wouldn’t believe himself capable of being any help. He could even get sober so he’d have more credibility. The others wouldn’t believe Klaus, because in their eyes he’s an irresponsible liar who’s high or drunk 99 percent of the time.  
> I don’t really have any more of the story laid out, so it’d be your choice what to do with it if you decided to write this. Thanks for looking this over (if you do, that is).'
> 
> Thanks to PollyWolly who gave me this idea! I'm excited to write it and I hope I write it the way you wanted it! <3

Ben had had long enough to come to terms with being dead. He'd go as far to say that he had always been alright with death; when one has a brother that can speak to the dead, it doesn't seem that bad. Of course, though, that was when they were children. Before Number Four found the drugs, before he started to lie, before everyone stopped believing him. No one understood why Klaus did the drugs; no one understood the ghosts he saw. Ben and him, they had been somewhat close as children. They had shared the same hatred for their powers, the same misunderstanding from their siblings. Their siblings didn't understand not having powers that were optional, that they didn't have to deal with, that they didn't want to deal with. Ben couldn't simply stop living with the monster in him let alone go an hour without being aware of their presence. Klaus couldn't stop seeing the corpses that followed him everywhere, couldn't turn it off or escape from them. 

So, perhaps he understood the drugs just a little bit. If he had been offered an off switch for his own powers, god knows he would have taken it. So when Klaus smoked a bit of weed every now and then, if he faked migraines for some strong painkillers, Ben wasn't entirely mad with him like the others were. He wasn't mad or disappointed or disgusted. He understood. 

Then it became more than weed. He was sneaking out at night to sneak into parties and meet with fans of the Umbrella Academy that had connections. He stole and he pawned for money to get little colourful pills that gave him a break. Ben's death hadn't helped him much, either. It had seemed to be the trigger to split up the rest of his siblings, actually. They started leaving the academy one by one and Klaus was too high for weeks to see Ben.

Of course, Ben had tried to speak to him about it. He'd used every chance he'd gotten to try and convince Klaus to try and go sober. Hell, he'd gotten him into rehab a couple of times, although it had never stuck. Even now, Ben watched helplessly as Klaus used his teeth to tie his scarf around his arm. 

"Klaus," Ben sighed, shaking his head. "How about we go see a movie? Go for a walk? Go sneak into a mattress shop or something," he offered, eying the dirty alley Klaus currently occupied. The man in question offered no response, fiddling with the syringe in his shaking hands. He lined it up with a protruding vein, pressed it in, and pushed down on the plunger. A small sigh left his lips and his head tipped back against the brick wall behind him, his eyes slipping closed.

"Take the needle out," murmured Ben. Klaus might have heard him or done it out of reflex, but he reached out with clumsy hands to pull the needle out, discard it on the floor, and loosen his makeshift tourniquet from his arm. Then he slid down the wall until he was laying on his side, eyes half-lidded and lips curling up into a smile. All Ben could do was sigh and pace the dirty alleyway, watching for any trouble that might find its way to Klaus. It was raining, steadily growing stronger, and the dumpster beside Klaus was the only thing shielding him from the strong winds. Thunder clapped overhead and Ben hoped Klaus wouldn't catch his death.

Something flickered in his peripheral vision. Ben startled slightly, whipping around to face the person who had snuck up on him. However, as his eyes met the familiar, inquisitive brown ones he hadn't seen since he was thirteen, he froze. His heart leapt into his throat and he stared at Number Five. 

He looked like he had when he left, save for the oversized suit on his small frame. He was staring at Ben curiously.

"I'm dead," he stated, then. Ben cringed.

"Uh, sorry," he offered. "Are you... okay?"

Five's eyes lingered on Ben for a moment before bouncing around the alleyway he was in, then settled on Klaus. "What year is it?" He asked. He tipped his head back to Ben, raising an eyebrow. 

"It's twenty-nineteen," he said. "January."

Five hummed, nodding and stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Good," he muttered. 

They fell into silence. "What happened?" Ben asked. Five pursed his lips together.

"Time travel," he stated, then heaved a sigh and shifted on the spot. "I time travelled into the future. I was... I got stuck there. I've been trying to make my way back for... for fourty odd years," he said. His eyes looked distant, remembering something else. "I just made it back. My calculations must have been off. It killed me." 

Ben cringed, pressing his lips together and nodding. "Well... I'm sorry. At least you're back here," he offered, and Five stared at him. 

"What's he on?" He asked, gesturing to Klaus. He stepped forwards, crouching in front of him and clicking his fingers in front of his face. 

"Heroin," muttered Ben with the shake of his head. Five turned to look at him, eyebrows raised.

"Heroin?" He echoed. "I knew it had gotten worse..."

"It got worse as we got older," he said, "but once I died, it just... he let go."

Five pursed his lips, looking at Klaus. He waved his hand in front of his eyes. "Klaus, get up," he hissed. "We need to talk."

"He can't hear you," said Ben, eyeing Klaus on the floor with his eyes rolling back into his head, showing only the whites of his eyes. A breathy moan slipped past his smiling lips. "He's high. He can't see us or hear us when he's high. Well, sometimes me, but I'm pretty sure he's too far gone just now."

"Well, get him sober!" Five pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing. He let out a heavy sigh and stood up, going to nudge Klaus with the two of his shoe only for it to go through him and a shiver run through their brother's ragdoll body. 

"He'll be high for another five minutes," said Ben, looking away. "Then he'll doze off for an hour or so. We're not going to be able to talk to him until then."

Five sighed, glaring at Klaus before clenching his fists and nodding. "Ben, we need to talk."

Ben waved a hand. "We've got plenty of time," he snorted. He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. Five stepped closer to him, leaving Klaus to his high.

"When I travelled into the future, I went too far. I landed in the end of the world. Everything was ruined, everyone was dead. I was the only person still alive. I found a newspaper that hadn't been burnt and it said... April the first. Twenty-nineteen."

Ben blinked slowly, staring at Five as if he'd grown two heads. End of the world? In a few months? 

"Are you okay?" He asked. Five scoffed, rolling his eyes and pacing up and down the alleyway.

"I'm serious, Ben," he hissed, running his hands through his hair. "I was there for fourty years, give or take. I spent that time by myself trying to make it back to stop it. And now I'm fucking dead." 

Ben reached out, resting a hand on Five's shoulder. It was weird; ghosts could touch one another, yet they hardly acknowledged one another. 

"Five," he said softly, "take a minute. We'll have to wait until Klaus gets up either way, but... just take a minute. Talk to me, yeah?"

Five sighed, hand scrubbing down his face, eyes burning into Ben. Then he glanced away and nodded. "I don't know how it starts," he said, leaning back against the wall. "I found a prosthetic eye back there. I think it belongs to the person who caused the apocalypse." His eyes blew wide then and he patted the pockets of his oversized suit; Ben assumed that he must have been older, and therefore taller, and that time travel must have messed with his body as well when he returned. Which sucked, really, because he was stuck in those clothes now.

His hand ducked into the pocket and he let out a sigh of relief, pulling out a small object; an eye. 

"Actually," said Five, looking at the prosthetic. "Why don't you talk? I need to know about being a ghost. What can I do? Why can I touch you? Why do I still have the eye?"

Ben blew out a breath, eyes flicking down to his unconscious brother. He was on his side, at least. He wouldn't choke if he vomited, then. He glanced back to Five. "I'm not sure of... the specifics of everything," he began, waving a hand. "I think most of it's because of Klaus. Because we're pretty... close, he can see me when he's higher. Not this high, though. You can go pretty much anywhere you want, but if you go away from Klaus for too long it's... it's like getting lost. It feels like everything fades away. I think Klaus is almost like an... an anchor, or something. So I don't suggest going too far for long. Uh... other ghosts ignore you," he shrugged, "but you can touch them and stuff. Other ghosts... aren't as... nice, I guess. You'll probably see that. The eye thing? I think it's either because you died with it, right?" Five nodded. "Or it's because you were attached to it. Something like that."

Five inclined his head, looking around thoughtfully. "Can I still use my powers?" He asked. Ben shrugged.

"I'm not sure. I hardly feel mine anymore," he admitted. "But that might be because _they_ died as well, or something weird. You could try?" He suggested. Five shook his head.

"I'm... exhausted," he said, "it wouldn't work even if I was alive right now. Speaking of; why do I feel tired if I'm dead?"

"You're dead," he stated, "it's a pretty tiring process. You're going to feel that you're dead for a while. It fades eventually."

The brunette let out a sigh but nodded, one hand scratching his jaw. Then he slid down the wall until he was sitting, eying Klaus. 

"Everything really went to shit, huh?"

Ben snorted, stepping over to sit next to him. "It sure did," he muttered, resting his chin on his knees. "I tried to get him to stop, or at least to calm down, but... yeah. I don't know if it was because of the ghosts, or to spite dad or the siblings, or 'cause of the people he was with, but..." he waved a hand. "It didn't stop getting worse." 

At the very least, by the way his eyes had fully closed, Ben knew that the short-lived rush that came with the heroin was gone and that he had simply nodded off. His hands twitched over the dirty floor, limbs sprawled out at awkward angles, neck slightly twisted, his lips chapped and bleeding from where he'd caught his bottom lip with his teeth. Makeup was smudged around his eyes, glitter trailing down his cheek, and the remnants of a stranger's hickeys bruised his neck. 

"What about the others?" asked Five. Ben raised an eyebrow.

"Last I heard, Luther was still on the moon, Diego was in the police academy, Vanya was in an orchestra, and Allison was getting married. I think Luther's still on the moon, maybe? Or he just got back. I think Diego's still in the police academy. Allison's getting divorced, and Vanya just published her book, like, a few months ago. No one's happy about that."

Five snorted. "Yeah. I found it in the rubble in the future. It was quite harsh."

"You could say that," scoffed Ben, shaking his head. "I still can't believe she did that. I made Klaus read it so I could, too, and... wow. I think you and I are the only ones she didn't absolutely drag under the bus, and that's because she hasn't seen either of us in a decade. Nearly two, for you."

Five let out a half-hearted laugh. "The joys of being dead," he muttered sarcastically. "When's he going to wake up?"

Ben turned his eyes away from a rat by Klaus' foot. "He'll probably wake up in an hour or so. Closer to half an hour, if you're lucky, but he'll only be half conscious when he does." 

Five sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

Ben wondered if he was frustrated. Well, he knew that he was. If he had really been living in, what, the apocalypse for longer than any of them had been alive, then he'd just made it back only to die and see his brother that's able to speak to the dead high off his ass in an alleyway. It was understandable. Ben turned his gaze to the entrance of the alleyway and waited.

 

 

 

 

He began to stir at some point. He curled up more, eyes screwing up, limbs scraping the rough ground. Then he blinked his eyes open, pupils tiny pin pricks, and he vomited. 

With a half-hearted groan, Klaus' clumsy fingers found the dumpster by his side and he pulled himself up and away from his mess. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and his eyes bounced around before settling on Ben, now crouching by his side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, waving a hand in front of him. His brother closed his eyes for a moment and let out a breathy laugh. 

"S' good," he moaned, words melting together, and he slumped against the cool metal of the dumpster. Ben sighed and shared a look with Five.

"He's not going to be 'with us' for a while," he said, and Five grunted in frustrated acknowledgement.

"Who ya talkin' to, Benny?" Slurred Klaus, cracking an eye open. " 'm the one who sees invisible people, remember?" 

"I'm talking to Five, Klaus," he said, kneeling in front of him.

Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Really? I don't see 'im."

"That's because you're high, Klaus."

"Oh. Yeah." He laughed, then waved his hand, open-palmed and showing off his _'HELLO'_ tattoo. "Hey, Five-o."

"Fucksake, Klaus," muttered the sibling in question, shaking his head. Ben cringed, glancing down at his feet.

"How about we go for a walk, Klaus? Try and sober up?" He offered hopefully, raising his eyebrows at Klaus who stared right through him.

"And why would I want to do that?" He hummed in response. He was already beginning to nod off, head drooping down.

"Because Five needs to talk to you," stated Ben.

"Oh, yeah. Five. Hey, Five," he repeated, wiggling his fingers in a lazy wave. 

Ben sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and inhaling deeply. He watched Klaus wrap his arms around himself, face flushed, eyes going wide.

"What's wrong with him?" Five asked, and Ben studied Klaus for a moment.

"He forgets how to breathe," he muttered. "If he gets this high. Hey, Klaus, come on. Deep breath, yeah? Breathe in."

Klaus' fingers pressed into his ribs, wide eyes staring at the ground in front of him. " _I can't_ ," he wheezed, shoulders hunching higher. Five shook his head.

"This is pathetic," the brunette muttered, continuing his pacing from earlier.

"Yes you can," insisted Ben, like the many times he had had to do this before, ignoring Five. "Like sucking through a straw, remember?" 

Klaus shook his head, a hand scratching his neck, and Ben sighed, ducking down to catch his eyes. "Like having a drink, Klaus."

Klaus gasped then, drawing in a deep breath and holding it before letting it go. "See," said Ben, "like that." 

Satisfied that Klaus was steadily breathing again, Ben turned to Five. 

"We've just got to let him wake up for a while," he told him regretfully. "There's not much more we can do until he's conscious enough to listen to me."

Five groaned, shaking his head and muttering to himself. "We don't have _time_ ," he stressed.

"Hey, Five," uttered Ben, "take a moment. We've got plenty of time, alright? Enough time to let him wake up and talk to him, alright?"

Five pressed his lips together, avoiding looking at Ben or Klaus. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked up at the dark sky, glaring at the clouds. He didn't say anything else and Ben sighed, turning to look back at Klaus, once more nodding off.

 

 

 

 

 

"Ben?" 

Ben sat up, eyes darting back to Klaus. 

"Hey," he greeted, shuffling over to Klaus. His pupils were still small, eyes sleepy, cheeks flushed, but he was coherent. His nails were leaving red marks on his arms as he scratched at an invisible itch. "How you feeling?"

Klaus grunted, closing his eyes. "Why am I on the floor?"

Ben snorted. "Because you don't care enough to get somewhere safe before you shoot up."

Klaus cringed, then turned his lips up to smile. "Fair 'nough."

"Do you remember what I said earlier?" Ben asked. Klaus raised an eyebrow, pursing his lips. 

"Uh... _yes_ ," he said unconvincingly. Ben rolled his eyes.

"Can you see him?" Ben waved to Five, intently watching Klaus. Klaus' eyes flicked there and then back.

"Who?"

Five sighed, dropping his head into his hands.

"Come on, get up. You're going for a walk," urged Ben, and Klaus groaned.

"I'm so _tired_ ," he whined. 

"Should've thought about that before doing drugs," Ben scolded, "get up. We have to talk."

Klaus whined, raising his hands to rub his eyes. "You can't make me."

"This is serious, Klaus."

"You know what's serious?" Klaus' hand scrabbled for the top of the dumpster and he heaved himself up on shaky legs like a new born deer. "The after affects, you know? Oh, the high's so good but it only lasts, like, a second. Upper's are my thing. I don't even know why I tried that in the first place."

Ben hurried after Klaus as he staggered out of the alleyway, Five following closely behind.

"What's he doing?" He hissed, and Ben grit his teeth together, watching Klaus dip his hand into his ridiculously tight leather pants and fish out a handful of crumpled bills.

"Going to get high," he muttered, then hurried to his side.

"He _just_ got high!"

"Heroin's a downer. He always does this after it."

Five waved his hands towards their stumbling brother. "Stop him!"

Ben glanced back at him before walking in front of Klaus, stopping him in his tracks. "Klaus, stop it. Just for a couple of hours. We need to talk about something -"

"After," dismissed Klaus, waving one hand vaguely. He finished counting the bills in his hands and grinned, heading down the street. He ignored all of Ben's attempts to stop him, heading straight to the nearest gym and paying for one session, only to use the showers to clean himself up and the mirrors in the changing room to reapply his eyeliner. Then he headed back out, looking over the remaining money. 

"Look, you've had a shower, you've cleaned up. How about you get a motel room? Get a room for tonight; it's raining. Get some food - when was the last time you ate? - and we can talk." 

Klaus hummed, pursing his lips and sparing a tired glance to Ben. "That sounds real nice, you know," he hummed, "but I don't think so." He pouted mockingly at Ben before turning and continuing to walk a familiar path, and Ben dug his nails into the palms of his hands.

"Klaus!" He snapped, hurrying forwards. "Five's dead."

That caught his attention. He paused, turning on heel to face Ben and raising an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Five," Ben repeated, waving to their brother beside him, "is dead. You can't see him because you're still too high. And he needs to talk to you."

Klaus stammered, lips moving silently for a moment as he narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the air beside Ben that he had gestured to.

"Oh," he murmured, then leaned back, stuffing his hands into his back pockets. "Well... shit. Well, we all kinda guessed after he got mad at dad and ran off," he dismissed, waving a hand and continuing down the street. Ben glared at his back, keeping pace with him.

"He _just_ died. A few hours ago. He managed to time travel back from the future but he, uh, he apparently died in the process. You need to talk to him."

Klaus tipped his head to the side, blinking rapidly before rubbing his eyes and groaning. Ben knew that the confirmation of Five's death had nonetheless shocked him, his nails digging into his skin more as he scratched away at the itch for drugs under his skin. He swallowed dryly and glanced away, pressing his lips together.

"Ah," he said eventually. "Well. That sounds _kinda_ important." He drummed his fingers along his arms, rocking on his heels. 

"Yes," said Ben, "it does. Come on, let's go get food and go to a motel."

Klaus groaned, tipping his head down and throwing his hands up. "God, you're so boring!" He whined. "The night's still young! Just... just one drink. For Five," he offered a lazy grin, hands on his knees, and Ben glared at him. 

" _No_ , Klaus." 

Klaus grumbled crudely under his breath, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "Where's a takeaway?" He asked, heaving himself up. 

Ben let out a heavy sigh of relief, shoulders slumping, and he took a few steps down the street and glanced around. "You walked past a Chinese takeaway down here," he stated, and Klaus dragged himself after Ben.

"Can he not hurry up?" Grumbled Five, watching Klaus with the same intensity as the others in the takeaway. Of course, he looked like a sight to behold; heavy eyeliner, skin tight leather pants and a bright tie-dye crop top, mumbling to himself and obviously under some kind of influence while he tried to read the menu.

"If we disturb him," Ben murmured back, "he'll lose his spot and have to start over again."

Five groaned pitifully, scrubbing his hands down his face. He looked up at the stained ceiling of the takeaway shop as if hoping to find God in the stains.

"Can I get... uh..." Klaus scratched the back of his head, leaning on the counter to look at the short woman behind it. "The... uh... the... the chicken? Yeah. The sweet and sour chicken. The Hong Kong style one?"

"Do you want rice with that?"

"Oh, uh..."

"Jesus fucking Christ," mumbled Five, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

"To be fair," Ben stated, watching his brother decide between rices, "he's doing better than I would've expected him to be. Usually he'd be asleep again."

"Oh, goodie," Five muttered sarcastically. 

"Just the fried rice. Please."

With his order finally taken, Klaus slumped back against the wall, folding his thin arms across his chest and staring at the floor until his order came back. He quickly paid and staggered out, one hand holding the bag of food, the other trailing across the wall of the buildings beside him. 

"How much money do you still have?" Ben asked, and Klaus blinked at him. He held up some crumpled up bills, waving them in front of Ben's face and he leaned forwards to read them. "Alright, good. You should have enough for a motel room tonight," he sighed. "Come on."

With his time on the streets with Klaus he had all but memorised the place, taking it upon himself to try and get Klaus to eat, which only tended to work if there was a cheap shop within two minutes of himself, and to find shelter, which only tended to work if there was a cheap motel within two minutes of himself. So, he became pretty well acquainted with navigating the streets quickly, since Klaus was either too drunk or too high or too hungover to help himself.

"Have you always had to babysit him like this?" Five asked, watching Ben lead the way down the streets. Ben shrugged, sparing him a glance.

"Well, I wouldn't put it like that," he murmured. "I just try and keep him alive."

"Pretty much babysitting." 

Ben snorted. "Klaus sitting," he corrected. Five scoffed at him, shaking his head minutely. He glanced back at his brother in question who seemed to not be paying any attention, holding his bag of food to his chest and picking his head up whenever it began to droop.

The nearest motel wasn't the nicest, but it wasn't like Klaus was used to five-star hotels. Plus, he didn't have a lot of money left, but it should be enough for the one Ben had found. The receptionist seemed eager to not question Klaus' motives with the room, shoving a key into his hand and telling him his room was number twelve. Klaus made his way there, put his food on the table, and dug out one of the forks offered in the makeshift kitchen of the tiny room.

The walls were a gross, swamp green that might have been that colour partly because of the mould in the room. There was a bullet hole above the bed and cigarette burns everywhere and ominous stains on the curtains and even more ominous stains in the gross purple carpet. There were water stains on the ceiling panels and in the bathroom and Ben was pretty sure he could see a condom peaking out from underneath the bed.

Either way, as he heard the rain begin to pound against the window, it was better than an alleyway.

Klaus slumped into a seat at the small round table, busying himself with opening his food with clumsy hands. He stabbed the fork into a piece of chicken, stabbed the chicken into the rice, and stuffed it into his mouth whole, then followed it up with some more rice. Ben sat on the edge of the bed and Five leaned against the window, watching rain drops run down it. 

"How are you feeling?" Ben asked, watching Klaus work on autopilot to shovel the food into his mouth, eyes half-lidded and staring at the opposite wall. Ben waved a hand above his head, eyebrow raised. Klaus blinked, eyes rolling over to Ben.

"Hm?"

"How are you feeling?" He repeated. Klaus swallowed down a mouthful of chicken and rice, rubbing a few spare grains of rice away from his mouth and onto the floor.

"A lot better if I had some coke," he muttered, waving his other hand before setting his chin on it.

" _Klaus_."

"I'm just being honest, Benny. You know I'd never lie to you."

"That, right there? That was a lie."

Klaus held up his hands, fork balancing between his fingers before he jabbed it at Ben. "You caught me."

"Can you see me yet?" Five interrupted, turning away from the window and eying his brother. Seeing the lack of reaction from Klaus, though, was answer enough and he sighed.

"Heroin fucks with his powers for longer," Ben said apologetically, looking away from his doped out brother and to his stressed one. It seemed the idea of 'relax' was an unknown myth to him. 

"Great," the brunette muttered, letting out a bitter laugh.

"I told you it'd take a while. There's no point in getting worked up about it, Five," said Ben with a sigh. "Look, Klaus, you finish the food and go to sleep, yeah?" He said, turning briefly back to him. Klaus simply nodded and bit into another piece of sauce-drowned chicken. "And Five, you sit down. Talk to me about it, then. You hardly spoke about this 'end of the world' thing. Or, even, take a break from that. How are you coping with... you know, being dead?"

Number Five sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He seemed to resign himself to the fact that Klaus wasn't going to be available for a while longer. "It doesn't matter about being dead," he stated, "there's nothing we can do about it."

"No," agreed Ben, "and even if we're still... around, in a way, that doesn't mean that it's easy to deal with." He raised an eyebrow at Five, trying to study his expression. Unsurprisingly, it was unreadable, his jaw clenched and eyes cold.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "It's unfortunate, if anything. The important thing is the apocalypse."

"Apocalypse?"

Five shrugged. "That's what it is," he said. He let out a sigh and stepped closer. "When I travelled into the future, everything was... in ruins. Like it had been knocked down by some giant tornado, or there had been a war. Everything was on fire. I was the only person left alive. I had to adapt and survive while I tried to figure out the right calculations to return to my time. My powers were... drained. I should've listened to the old man. Anyone could jump through space, but jumping through time is a toss of the dice." He shook his head, looking away. 

Despite remembering Five had always hated being interrupted, Ben did so. "Five... how do you that it wasn't just some war?" He asked. "Or some huge natural disaster."

Five raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed. "Would it be possible to have a war bad enough to end the entire world and humanity with less than four months notice?" He questioned. "And is the environment really that bad? We would have had increasingly bad weather to build up to something powerful enough to, literally, flatten the entire world, Ben."

Ben sighed, running a hand along his jaw. "The eye," he stated, gesturing to his pocket. "What's that about?"

Five's hand ghosted over the pocket of his suit and his jaw clenched. He avoided looking at Ben.

"I know that the apocalypse was caused by one person mainly," he stated, "because of the eye. I... when I jumped into the future, among all the rubble, I found all of your bodies. Except yours and my own, of course. And Vanya's. Klaus - probably you too, by default, since you're always with him - Allison, Luther and Diego had tried to fight it. And you all died. I found the eye in Luther's hand."

Ben let that settle in, staring at Five with wide eyes. "They all _died_?" He echoed. Five nodded.

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "They had been together and must have been fighting whoever it was, and they failed. I spent fourty odd years trying to get back to any point in time before the apocalypse to try and stop it. Of course, though, I counted for the fact that I'd be _alive_. It'd be much easier to do if I was alive. I must have miscalculated something, so now we have to trust Klaus."

Both of them turned to look at Klaus. He had stopped eating at some point, fork still in hand, head on the table next to his Chinese food. A snore tore past his lips and his body shivered. 

"Well..." Ben drawled, pressing his lips together and trying to remain hopeful. 

Five turned to look out the window again, hands clasped behind his back. 

He supposed he had every right to be a bit stressed. Nonetheless, Ben tried to tell himself that once Klaus woke up again he'd be coherent enough to talk to Five and understand the situation. 

He hoped that God was real and that his prayers were heard. They'd need a damn miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you to PollyWolly who requested the idea; I really like it and I'm excited to write it. I hope that you approve of the first part!


	2. Half A Soul Divided

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... sorry about the break, but here's a chapter? Enjoy

_Reginald was a cruel man. Of course Number Four knew this; he had come to realise this at a young age. If it wasn't studying them from birth like they were test subjects rather than children, and if it wasn't tattooing eight year olds, or making them exercise their powers until they passed out, then it was exploiting their fears._

_Number Four had an irrational fear of the dark. In the dark, the ghosts thrived. They devoured light and life and you couldn't hide from them in the dark. They emerged from shadows, twisting darkness into their pale, skeletal faces, and in the darkness they seemed to be the only thing that existed. And Number Four; he hated them._   _Reginald didn't care whether or not he was afraid of the ghosts, or afraid of the dark. Maintaining control of his powers was more important than fear, and Reginald would do whatever he had to do to make Number Four get over his little fear. And Reginald was a cruel man; he wouldn't reassure Number Four, he wouldn't slowly urge Number Four to try things in baby steps. What he could do, however, was force Number Four to face his fears and get over it._

_That was how the mausoleum came into play. It was an hours drive away from the academy that would be spent in stony silence, broken only by Number Four's occasional pleads to his father. Then Four would be led through the graveyard by a stern hand on his shoulder and he'd be forced to step inside the cold mausoleum. Reginald would say something like, "control yourself" and then he'd close the heavy doors, lock them, and Four wouldn't see him for several hours. Sometimes, Four wondered if he went back home and left Four there._

_Klaus hated the mausoleum. The ghosts in there were decades, centuries old. The meaning of humanity and life were lost to them, but they understood that Klaus was alive. Klaus was alive and he could see them, and therefore he had to be able to help them, too. They screamed his name with raspy voices, reached out with broken fingers to try and grab him, to try and tear him apart. When Klaus yelled at them to go away, they turned furious. They screamed and wailed and hounded him for endless hours, cried his name until their throats bled. Their bodies fell apart around him and they told him how they died, they told him how he would die, how the world would end in a fiery blaze and Klaus, once he died, would come back to the mausoleum to join them. Klaus wasn't accepted in any after life. God nor Luficer wanted him, they laughed. If Klaus couldn't escape death in life, what made him think there would be life after death? Not for him, anyway. Death held no mercy towards Klaus._

_The mausoleum taught him many things. It taught him that Reginald was a heartless man that didn't see them as people and knew things he shouldn't_.  _It taught him that he could scream for three hours before his voice went and he tasted blood in his throat. It taught him that the academy uniform didn't help when trapped in a freezing cold, damp tomb, and it taught him that ghosts, death and life alike all despised Klaus. It taught him that he would never be safe from them. They'd always be there, with their pale, hollow faces, melting flesh and moaning voices, their cold blood that spilled over Klaus and threatened to drown him but left no trace in the morning._

Klaus jerked awake with a beg dying on his lips. Something clattered out of his grip and he startled, peeling his eyes open. A fork had fallen out of his hand and clattered onto some old table in front of him. There was a ton of Chinese food in front of him and he realised he was in some cheap motel room. Ben was sitting on the edge of the bed, reading his book, but upon Klaus jerking awake he glanced up.

"Finally awake," he commented and Klaus groaned, rubbing his eyes. He felt gross; limbs aching and trembling, sweating despite the fact the motel room was cold, and God, the _itch_. He sniffled and stood up, stretching his arms above him. 

"You took the bed last night?" He asked in a joking-whining tone to his ghostly brother. Ben shrugged.

"You passed out while eating," he stated, gesturing to the cold food, and Klaus waved a hand.

"How long's it been?"

"Since when?"

Klaus gave Ben a pointed look. "My last hit, dear brother."

Ben rolled his eyes but spared a glance to the clock on the wall. "About ten hours." 

"No wonder I feel like shit," Klaus snorted, scratching the back of his hand. He ran his hands over himself, dipping into his pockets. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the close walls of the mausoleum, hear their voices echoing in the shell of his ear, and he wanted it to all be gone. 

"You've not got anything," Ben said, almost tauntingly, and Klaus glared at him. 

"Where's my money?" He asked, dipping his hands back inside his leather pants. His familiar safe pocket came up empty, however. 

"You spent it on the motel room." Klaus groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

" _You_ spent it on the motel," he stated. "I don't waste my money on motels."

Ben snorted. "No, just on drugs," he sneered, and Klaus glared at him. Then he began staggering around the room, rummaging in the shelves and cupboards for anything. "Do you remember anything of last night?

Klaus pressed his lips together, glaring at an empty drawer. "Of course not," he scoffed. He snatched up something glinting on the floor and held the ring up to the light, scrutinizing it. Then he slipped it into his pocket and continued looking around the floor with increasing franticness. 

"Klaus," Ben hissed, and he snapped his gaze up to him.

" _What_?"

Ben's head tipped to the left and Klaus followed the gesture, eyes finding another ghost. He almost groaned, almost screwed his eyes shut. He didn't, however, his eyes stuck on little Number Five who was staring back at him. Klaus raised his eyebrows.

"Five?" He muttered, looking him up and down. He looked like he had the day he had ran away except for the oversized suit that seemed to drown his small frame. 

"You can see me now?" Five asked, taking a step forwards.

"Oh, shit," Klaus groaned, eyes bouncing between both of his deceased brothers. "How long?" He asked hesitantly.

"Since last night. You've been too high to see him. I've already told you, like, three times," Ben stated, and Klaus slumped into the seat he had fallen asleep in. 

"Nice," he muttered, shaking his head. He peered up at Five, eying him. "Uh... sorry for your passing," he offered with a sheepish smile, and Five scoffed. Klaus scratched the back of his neck before scrubbing a hand down his face. He wasn't awake enough for this. "Want to... talk about it?" He offered.

"No," snapped Five. "There's more important things to talk about, Klaus."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, resting his chin on his hands. "You have my full attention, dearest brother. Go," he said, waving a hand in some vague gesture. He watched Five come closer and sit on the edge of the bed across from him. 

"When I left, back when we were thirteen," he began, "I time travelled. I ended up in the future where I was stuck there for fourty odd years. I spent that time trying to get back here, but the process killed me."

Klaus blew out a breath. "That must've been a let down," he commented, and Five glared at him.

"It is." Klaus cringed. "And because I'm dead, I need your help, Klaus. I travelled to the future and I saw the apocalypse. The end of the world. That was April of twenty-nineteen, Klaus. In a few months. I came back to try and stop the apocalypse, but now I'm dead so I need your help to do this."

Five looked so serious, too. But...

"You're in your fifties?"

Five groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Yes. Time travelling reverted my body back to the thirteen year old state it had been in before I left, but my consciousness is fifty-eight. That's not the important thing. I need you to cooperate with me to try and stop it before it has a chance to begin. I have a lead, I think... you should get the others together. Phone them up; maybe we should even talk to the old man."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa; hold up there, buddy," Klaus interrupted, holding his hands up. "Okay, you're going to have to slow your roll there. Didn't - didn't our dear papa say that time travel could... you know, mess with the head a bit?" He asked hesitantly, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees. "Maybe you need to just... chill for a couple of days. Get your bearings again, remember everything -"

" _Klaus_ ," hissed Five, eyes blazing, "I know what I saw. What I lived in for over fourty years." He stood up, pacing the room with his jaw clenched and hands clenching and unclenching. "It didn't... mess with my mind, Klaus. I saw the end of the world, the end of everything, and it's happening in a few months. And you're the only person I can talk to about this and do something about it, and you're always fucking high."

Klaus narrowed his eyes, sitting back. "Hey! That's uncalled for! Look, look... fine. Say you're right. The world's gonna come to an end in a few months. And how am I supposed to stop that?"

Five whirled around to face him. His hand dipped into the pocket of his oversized suit and pulled out something small, and he held it out. "This. This belongs to the person who brought about the apocalypse. We'll go after this first, and we'll kill him."

Klaus' eyebrows shot up and he stood up. "Uh, excuse me?" He asked, tongue running over his lips. "Did you just tell me to murder someone? Next plan. Next! We're not committing murder."

"It's the only way-"

"You don't know that," interrupted Klaus, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You do _not_ know that. Five, this is crazy." He threw his hands up, shaking his head. He looks around the motel room, wrapping his arms around himself. Five was insane. Completely, utterly insane. And by the way he was glaring at Klaus now, he knew that if ghosts could touch him then Klaus would be dead. As dead as the hooker in the corner of the room, makeup running down her face as she cried. At least Five looked a little surprised by that.

"Now's about time the ghosts... make themselves known," muttered Ben, "you just have to ignore them."

Klaus cringed at her sobbing and he grabbed his jacket, throwing it on. 

"Look, I'm terribly sorry for your death and the apocalypse and all that, but I am not murdering someone," he stated, turning to face Five once more. "I've got enough ghosts following me around with the two of you."

Five hurried to his side as they leave the motel, heading to the reception where Klaus uttered a thanks and returned the key before leaving. "Fine," he hissed, "but you've got to phone the others, then. Phone them all together, have a family meeting, do it one by one, whatever."

"I'm pretty sure Luther's still on the moon."

"Well - he'll be down soon!" Five snapped, his fingers flying to the bridge of his nose. Klaus ignored him, carrying on down the street. His nails left pink marks down his skin, scratching at the endless itch under his skin. His nose ran and despite the chill in his bones his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. And Ben had gone and made him spend all his money when he didn't know better. 

"We've got plenty of time," he drawled. "You should learn to relax, Five."

"Klaus," his brother growled, hurrying to his side and dodging a person that walked past them as if they could collide. "Don't you dare."

Klaus waved his hands, open-palmed. "Do what?" He asked with an innocent smile. His hands trembled slightly.

"Go find Vanya. Or Diego," he insisted. "We've got time to get everyone together and figure out who is responsible for the apocalypse and take them out. We need that time, Klaus, not for you to get high," he hissed.

Klaus rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You're so boring," he said dismissively, and then he ducked into an alleyway. Further in the alleyway there was a group of people, talking and smoking together although they fell quiet when Klaus got closer. It wasn't his preferred place or people to procure things from; too sketchy for his liking, too dangerous. But two of his brothers were dead and he felt sick with the beginning of his withdrawals. He was willing to risk it. 

"Klaus," Ben sighed, and Five ground his teeth together. Klaus ignored them both in favour of the tall, dark haired man who looked him up and down and smirked.

"Klaus," the man greeted, and he offered a grin.

"Nathan," he hummed, hands digging into his pocket for his dwindling packet of cigarettes and his lighter. "Fancy seeing you here." He offered the pack to the man in a silent peace offering, and Nathan leaned forwards to pluck a cigarette out. He perched it between his lips and waited for Klaus to light it. Nathan's eyes, deep brown and hypnotising, took in Klaus' appearance with an eyebrow raised. 

Nathan was a tall, slender man; had he not delved into drugs, he probably would have been pretty muscular. 

"I can guess why you're here," he snorted and Klaus pressed his lips together, smoke tumbling past his lips.

"What if I just wanted to talk to someone?" He joked, but leaned in. "But, say if I was here for other reasons... you could help me out there, right?" 

Nathan snickered, glancing between the other men with him. Then he jerked his head back and Klaus followed him eagerly into the alley. His van was parked further down at the opposite end of the wide alley and he threw the back doors open, reached in for his bag, and then slid back. 

"What'd you want?" He asked, leaning against his van. "You know what I have."

"Just give me whatever," Klaus blurted, hands flexing. Nathan laughed softly at his desperation, eyes roaming up and down him thoughtfully. He took another drag of his cigarette and blew it out in Klaus' direction. Klaus blinked against it, tipping his head down slightly.

"Klaus," Ben murmured to his side, and Klaus ignored him. He watched Nathan set his bag on the van and open it, peering in with his back to Klaus. 

"How much money you got?" He asked, and Klaus mentally groaned. Instead, he laughed.

"Ah, about that." Klaus avoided his gaze, hands on his hips as he studied the brick walls of the buildings either side of them. "I'm working on getting the money right now, and I'll have it to you the moment I get it."

Nathan turned to look at Klaus, then, with a thoroughly unconvinced expression on his face. He closed the bag behind him and leaned back against the van, tipping his head to the side. "Now, we both know that's not quite true, is it, Klaus?" Klaus grimaced, then straightened himself up slightly, rolling his shoulders, and he fixed a smile onto his lips. 

"Come on, Nathan," he said. He lit himself a cigarette, tilting his head down and to the side as he inhaled and blew the smoke aside. He reached out with another hand, brushing it along Nathan's arm. "You know you'll get it eventually; I always pay." He held the cigarette out, eyebrows raised, and Nathan plucked it from his fingers, inhaled, and put it out on Klaus' arm. Klaus flinched, curling his hand into Nathan's jacket and the smile fell quickly from his face. He held the eye contact, however, gritting his teeth until Nathan pulled it off and flicked the butt aside. Klaus forced the grin back onto his face, sharper. 

"Klaus, just walk away," Ben asked uselessly. Klaus continued to ignore him. 

"You don't want to make those kind of deals with me, Klaus. Not _again_ ," said Nathan, and Klaus' grin twisted itself into something of a grimace. This wasn't the first time Klaus had made empty promises to Nathan and it had taken him weeks to get himself out of that situation. "So, I'll give you a chance to walk away now." 

Klaus grit his teeth together. Realistically, he knew he didn't want to get himself involved with the likes of Nathan and his gang again, but he was also the only one who Klaus managed to make moneyless deals with to get drugs, and the itch in his bones was overwhelming. 

"Klaus, we have important things to do rather than just sit around and watch you high off your face," Five hissed, and Klaus spared a glance at him. His jaw was locked, his eyes cold and steeled, and Klaus looked quickly away. He did feel a little guilty, but he was simply too sober to listen to Five ramble about some supposed end of the world. Time travel supposedly did odd things to the mind, and so did death; Five just needed to adjust and he'd be fine. He'd realise that the world wasn't going to just abruptly end in some handful of months. And, really, Klaus would be a bad sibling, enabling Five's delusion. 

It was simply the fact that he didn't want to deal with Nathan and his dirty tricks that Klaus grimaced, huffed, and turned away. 

"You know where to find me when you have the money, Klaus," Nathan called cheerfully after him. Klaus rolled his eyes and trudged out of the alleyway, fishing for another cigarette and hastily lighting it. Nicotine would have to do for now.

"Good," said Ben. "You did a good job."

"Oh, don't praise him for seeking out a dealer and changing his mind at the last moment," snorted Five. "But now that that's over with-"

"What time is it?" Klaus asked, interrupting him and looking at Ben. Ben pursed his lips together, then shrugged.

"Morning, still. Probably not lunch yet."

Klaus groaned dramatically. Morning meant no night clubs and no raves that he could invade and weasel some drink or drugs from people. It meant that he had hours in which he had to occupy and entertain himself before bliss. 

"Where's Vanya?" Five asked. Klaus hummed, turning to look at him briefly. He shrugged.

"Dunno. She's got an apartment somewhere, I think. Can't remember where specifically. I've been once or twice, but she might have moved."

"Well, you need to go talk to her again," insisted Five. "Go find her and tell her about me. About the apocalypse."

Klaus groaned, drawing strange looks from everyone else on the street. He scrubbed his hands down his face, pulling at his skin. " _Fuuuuuuck_ , Five," he moaned. "Serious? Five... take a break, man. There's no threat of imminent danger, we're _fine_."

If Five was corporeal or able to kill from looks alone, Klaus held no doubt in his mind that he would have been dead. He held his hands up in defence, shaking his head. "Fine. Fine! Look, we'll go seek her out, alright, but it's not my fault if she thinks you're crazy. Or, actually, she'll think I'm crazy, and it'll be your fault."

Five rolled his eyes. "Whatever. As long as you do it." He seemed to just barely hold himself back from making some kind of comments or quips. He fell into step beside Klaus and Ben as they made their way down the street in the vague direction of Vanya's apartment block, and Klaus, still sniffling and shaking from withdrawals, thought that this would go over just as well as any of his interactions with his siblings usually did.


End file.
